


Eddie Brock and the Chocolate Factory

by kesomon



Category: Venom (Movie 2018), Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (1971)
Genre: Cannibalism (mention), Fluff, Gen, Humor, Interspecies Relationship(s), Other, Symbiotic Relationship, murder pudding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 10:32:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17303012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesomon/pseuds/kesomon
Summary: Take one chocolatier of mysterious background hiding five golden tickets in their chocolate bars for an exclusive factory tour, and one symbiotic alien life form who requires the phenylethylamine in chocolate to survive. Stir vigorously.





	Eddie Brock and the Chocolate Factory

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Hand that Feeds](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16399862) by [Schadenfiend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schadenfiend/pseuds/Schadenfiend). 



> This is an idea that was born purely from Johnny Depp's Wonka line in the reboot movie, "Even I am edible, but that is called cannibalism and is frowned on in most societies," and the thought that if Venom was in that universe, surely Wonka makes the best chocolate, and certainly Eddie's mass-consumption of said chocolate would net them a golden ticket.
> 
> However this is Gene Wilder's Wonka, because I like him better.
> 
> This is my 100th individual fic posted to Ao3. Of course it would be crack. Also, my interpretation of Venom is heavily influenced by Schadenfiend's The Hand That Feeds series, go check it out. (murder pudding <3)
> 
> This plot is actually adoptable if anyone wants to expand it, but I liked it too much to throw it into my miscellaneous-half-finished-fic collection.

“Everything in this room,” their emcee proclaimed, “is edible.”

The five winners of the golden tickets took in the room in wonder and skepticism. The grass, the flowers, the flowing, muddy river; all of it looked quite life-like, like a picture-perfect painting of a sunny spring day.

“Everything?” one of the children asked, all but vibrating with delight, kept in reign by a firm hand on their shoulder by their accompanying adult.

“Everything,” Wonka promised, and tipped his head, that familiar mischief in his eyes as he winked. “Even _I_ am edible.”

Every one of the golden ticket winners, and their plus-ones, looked askance at the man. Well, all but one. One man, unique among the number in that he was the only adult present (save Wonka) without a child in tow.

Fortunately, nobody was watching _him_ as his face did an unusual contortion of contemplation...then realisation, disgust, and barely concealed _panic_.

“ _No, Vee,_ ” he hissed, clutching the front of his jacket, but it did nothing to prevent plasmic, serpentine coils of velvet black from manifesting around his neck, pearlescent eye-spots and a mouth far too full of shining, sharp teeth grinning wide as it eagerly exclaimed, “ **REALLY?** ”

Everyone else reacted predictably. Gasps, a few screams, lots of clutching children close; even Wonka was taken aback, the first time they’d seen their host nonplussed by something.

“Goddamnit Venom,” Eddie muttered, tugging the symbiote’s head back from where it was eyeballing Wonka like a candy bar. “We’ve talked about this. That’s called _cannibalism,_ ” he said sternly, “and is _frowned on_ in...most societies.”

“ **NOT TECHNICALLY CANNIBALISM, WE ARE NOT SAME SPECIES,** ” the symbiote pointed out helpfully. “ **AND HE IS OFFERING.** ”

“I’m...afraid that was a jest, good sir,” Wonka apologised, remarkably calm for someone who was being menaced by an unknown alien life form. “Like your friend Mr. Brock says. It is frowned upon to eat your emcee, or his guests.”

Teeth disappeared into the black mouth in what could only be described in a pout.

“Don’t worry,” Eddie reassured him (and his fellow ticket-winners, who looked _very_ unconvinced), “he’ll behave.”

“ **YES,** ” the symbiote promised, shrinking back to coil like a snake around Eddie’s neck, head becoming almost adorably small as it rested on his human’s shoulder. “ **We did not want to eat you anyway. We like your Wonka double-choco-fudge bars. They are cheap so that Eddie does not complain to buy them for us and they have the most phenylethylamine.”**

And while the others around him were gaping with that revelation, Wonka, oddly, smiled. “Ah, of course. You’re Klyntar, aren’t you?”

It was Eddie’s turn to gape. Venom perked up, preening that the famed chocolatier knew of his species.

“I think you’ll be most impressed with our chocolate river, then,” the emcee told him, and expanded to address everyone. “You may all taste anything in the room - your fellow guests notwithstanding, of course. See what wonders you can uncover.”

As everyone scattered across the room to find the most interesting-looking environment to gnaw (and get away from the eldritch horror that was their fifth member), Venom turned their bulbous head to their host, their body rippling with shivers of excitement all over, lustrous eye-spots shining. “ **HE SAID THERE WAS A** ** _CHOCOLATE RIVER_** **, EDDIE.** ”

“Yeah, I heard. _Moderation_ , Vee,” Eddie reminded, but he was grinning as he cupped the symbiote’s squishy head to his chest in an approximate, affectionate hug, scritching fingers against the pliable goo, ambling after Wonka as the man led them towards the muddy - chocolatey - river and the waterfall that fed it. “We can’t eat everything in sight.”

“ **BUT A** ** _RIVER_** **OF** ** _CHOCOLATE!”_**

Eddie laughed at his other as they joined Wonka at the bank. The emcee offered Eddie a ladle - more a bucket on a stick, really - to sample the source. “To avoid contamination,” was the explanation. “It’s kept very pure, stirred by waterfall and kept at the perfect temperature for a consumable liquid-state. We pipe it into the production rooms untouched by any human hand.”

Venom eagerly pooled themselves out of Eddie’s hand into the healthily-sized bucket of liquid chocolate and absorbed it like a _sponge_ until they resembled a plump lump of pudding, eye-spots narrowed to slits of pleasure and tongue blepped happily over the side.

**“EDDIE. EDDIE. CAN WE STAY HERE FOREVER. _EDDIEEEEE._ ”**

The gurgle of contented pleasure they made was enough to flush Eddie’s cheeks red with embarrassed, tender adoration.

(And when the fat child with the greedy hands dared contaminate, even fall in to the river, sucked up the production pipes with a slurp like brains being squeezed from a skull, Venom turned at once to Wonka and offered, with all seriousness, “ **WE CAN EAT _HIM_ IF YOU WISH.**”

That Wonka appeared to actually consider it, was probably only amusing to Eddie.

“I’m afraid the whole batch will have to be scrapped,” the emcee said instead, with a lamentive sigh. “It’s utterly useless now, except...” he turned his gaze on Venom, and winked. “Would you obligate me a favor, good sir?”

The symbiote gave a high-pitched _squee_.)

 

BONUS OMAKE:

**CAN WE EAT _THEM_?**

The question was said almost hesitantly, the symbiote radiating an unfamiliar dubiousness in the silence of Eddie's mind. Eddie stared along with his other at the strange, chanting creatures, small stature and orange skin and _vibrant_ green hair, and shuddered.

"Better not, sweetheart. Anything in nature that colourful tends to be _poisonous_."


End file.
